The Wounded (The Woodlands Series) (23 page)

Pelo was hopping from one foot to another excitedl
y. “Where’s my boy?” he asked. “It’s time.”

I groaned and forced myself inch by inch to the edge of the mattress,
griping and cursing as I got dressed and put my shoes on.

Pelo
stood on the other side of the curtain, humming. “You really shouldn’t curse like that in front of the child, Rosa.”

“He can’t understand me
,” I snapped.

I brought the handheld
to my face, squinting. Pelo was right. It was time.

*****

I’d expected this, but it didn’t make me any less grumpy. The Survivors didn’t have many traditions, but the celebration of birthdays was one of them. Two months ago, they did this for Hessa. Now it was Orry’s turn.

Joseph h
eld Orry in his clasped hands, so the child was sitting up like he was on a throne. He yawned long and loud, grunting a little and rubbing his eyes. I reached up and stroked his hair, which matched his fathers, a shock of golden curls wrapped around his forehead like a crown. “I know how you feel,” I complained, rolling my eyes. I kicked a stone from the ledge, watching as it bounced jauntily down the giant tiers of this grimy amphitheater.

Pelo walked jerkily in front of me
. “Fascinating culture. I heard that
our
people used to celebrate the date of one’s birth and such before the war. Isn’t it thrilling to be part of such a tradition now?”

Joseph grinned at me and directed his comments to Pelo
. “The most you’re gonna get out of Rosa at this time in the morning is vague irritation. I think a lot less than thrilled might be about right.”

I bumped
Joseph’s shoulder lightly and poked my tongue out at him. I was kind of thrilled, well as thrilled as I was going to be at midnight. But Orry wasn’t born until late afternoon, so technically it wasn’t his birthday yet. I had plans for later in the day. But this was the Survivors’ thing, and I was pleased to be part of it.

With
Hessa, it had been the same. Nearly three thousand people crammed around the canal, plus the five or six hundred from the Monkey City. We wandered down to the edge, people parting for us, shuffling back with their heads bowed but big smiles on their faces. Matthew stood at the edge with Careen, Rash, Pietre, and Odval. Even Pietre’s face looked calm. I wouldn’t say he was smiling but he seemed peaceful, standing gingerly on his new, carved leg. He had his hands behind his back and stepped forward, producing a crudely carved ship. He held it in front of Orry, whose eyes danced as he grabbed at it. I nodded in thanks.

“I can’t believe he’s one
year old,” a tinkle of a voice said from behind Careen.

My heart jumped. Apella had made it. Careen moved
aside, and I stumbled over to her. “You came?” I asked, a bit dazed by all the staring eyes.

She coughed lightly into her fist and nodded.

Matthew clapped to get everyone’s attention. I joined Joseph, leaning my head towards Orry and letting him knock me on the head with the ship.

“We are here to mark the first birthday of Orlando, er…” Matthew leaned towards us and whispered, “Does Orry have a surname?”

We looked at each other, confused. We’d never really thought about it. “Bianca-Sulle?” Joseph asked.

I screwed up my nose
. “Just Sulle is fine.” Bianca didn’t mean a great deal to me. Sulle meant a hell of a lot more.

Joseph’s chest swelled when Matthew shouted out, “Orlando Sulle, or Orry as we’ve all come to know him.”

He held up a candle, lit it, and placed it in the bow of the ship. Orry started screaming when Matthew took it from him, and everyone laughed.

He gave the boat to
Joseph and me and, together with Orry, we knelt down and placed it in the water.

The sound of
thirty-five hundred people singing was like nothing I’d ever heard. It was warm and huge, the voices meshing and melding all around us. Together, the simple and repetitive song they sang had a strength and force to it. They loved my little boy. Not as much as I did, but pretty close.

The golden light of the candle bobbed away to the music, slowly disappearing, flashing starry light against the
cold, dark walls for seconds at a time before moving on, and eventually disappearing down a tunnel. It was so tiny, yet the light so powerful in this dark-slapped world. Just like Orry, its light was stronger and longer reaching than it had a right to be.

Joseph
clasped Orry tightly with one hand and the other squeezed my hand. I saw Salim and his monkeys, standing at the top tier. He nodded solemnly. I tipped my chin and returned my gaze to my family.

Happy
birthday, Orry.

*****

We dragged ourselves back to bed, accepting gifts and trinkets along the way. My yawn could have swallowed them all. I slunk under the blanket, restless, snippets of dreams pushed at me, shaking my shoulders, and not letting me sleep fitfully.

Orry cried out
. Instead of settling him in his bed, I brought him to me. I felt protective, cloudy dreams full of warnings and people long gone swimming in my head.

Just before
dawn, I sat bolt upright, sweat soaking my shirt, the chilling image of Clara standing over me, her hands wringing and tears streaming down her face, forcing my heart to stretch and pulse against my ribcage. My eyes swept around the room. Orry was sleeping on his stomach, one hand hanging off the mattress. Joseph lay with his back to me, his broad ribs moving soundlessly.

Just a dream, it was just a dream. But even as I thought it
, something caught. These things would always be hard. Because Clara, Addy, Deshi, my mother, they should all be here. With me. With Orry.

I stroked
Orry’s head and collapsed between them, always the agitated, wriggly, dark one stuck between these two perfect boys. Like a scratchy shadow between two golden lights.

*****

I rolled my eyes and prepared my tongue and mouth for breakfast. It was always canned something. Every morning someone would leave a stack of the processed, dented food at our entrance. It was always the same. Six cans of assorted color. We supplemented it with meat from the hunts. I stopped asking Careen what the meat was, because the answer was very rarely something I wanted to hear, like squirrel or rat. Orry’s chubby hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back from my position of squatting on the floor. The stack of cans toppled and rolled. I held up two different cans, peering at the labels, trying to discern the contents. One had a pretty field in the background with a bowl of unappetizing brown beans in the forefront. The other one was just green string beans. My stomach gurgled and shook its head in anti-anticipation.

“Ok, which one do you
want, Orry? Beans or beans?” I asked, trying to smile so he would actually eat it. He grabbed at the pretty can with the field in the background.

“Beans it is then!” I said as I pulled the ring open.

Joseph rolled over and grabbed me around the waist. “Save some for me… not!”

I laughed as I spooned them into Orry’s eager mouth.

“The last thing you need is beans.”

He chuckled and pinched my stomach lightly
. “Oh, that’s really classy.”

I
shook my head and continued to alternate one spoon for Orry and one for me. It tasted like glue mixed with liver, but he seemed to enjoy it.

*****

I didn’t have much planned for the afternoon. I just wanted to take Orry to the woods closest to the edge of the city.

The world was clos
ed over. We were still in the icy, mud-squelching stage of early winter. Soon we would be snowed in. I drew an unsatisfied breath at the thought of it. More months stuck underground with the monkeys.

Gus had sent some scouts back to the Wall to see if the Woodland soldiers had returned. There was no evidence of
it, but no one wanted to go back. It was voted down by the majority. They didn’t want to stay here either, but the idea of searching out a new location and rebuilding the settlement was overwhelmingly exhausting. So we all sat on our hands, waiting for something to make the decision for us, which it didn’t. The only other option was to push forward with the idea of agitating the Woodland citizens, but we needed Deshi for that. We went round and round in circles. I knew what I wanted to do, but it wasn’t my decision. If they pushed me too far though, I would push back and away. I would break from this community. This was no way to live.

Orry moved around the edges of the room with his hands flat to the stone wall. He had tested standing on his own a few
times, but crawling was still his preferred way to get around. I encouraged him to walk because the sooner he could get off the filthy floor, the better.

I
crouched down near him and opened my arms. He frowned at me like he knew what I was going to say. “Can you come to me?” I asked, beckoning with my fingers. He smiled and collapsed to the floor, dragging his bum along the hard ground, like he was a human mop. He made it to me and pulled himself up to standing, holding onto my shoulders while he wobbled like the ground was rocking under him.

“You’re so stubborn
,” I said, smiling.

A laugh grabbed our attention,
and Orry’s eyes lit up. “Just like his mother.” Joseph stood in the entrance, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, that annoying glint in his eye. I turned back and helped Orry into some shoes one of the Monkey City dwellers had given him earlier this morning.

I swung Orry onto my hip and passed Joseph in the doorway. He leaned down and kissed my cheek, then switched to Orry
, brushing his nose with his lips. “I’ll see you up there in about an hour, ok?”

“Yep!” I said, anxious to get out and up.
“Look how pale he is,” I said, patting his soft skin. “The boy needs some sun.”

*****

We bounded out, barely stopping to acknowledge people as we ran through the various tunnels, winding and weaving, the air getting crisper and colder as we ascended. I talked to Orry, hummed atrociously, and grabbed at the freshening air like it was a lifeline.

When we reached the ground
level, it was like breaking the surface of an aching lake. I breathed in deeply, quickly pulling out a wool hat for Orry’s cold head. The deep red cap made him look paler still, his eyes a little tired and yellow. I put my hand to his forehead, squinting in the cold sunlight. He felt cold, but then it was freezing out here. I shrugged and kept moving.

The light was stark, pale shadows dancing over the cobblestones. The shadow lines of the lampposts seemed brown rather than black. We crossed the old iron bridge, stopping to hang over the edge, watching patches of ice float across the water, colliding with other
s and breaking like crumbling puzzle pieces. Orry gurgled, gasped, and giggled. I let my teeth show, and let my hair get tangled in his wet fingertips.

“
Soon, you’ll be a one year old,” I whispered. He frowned at me again, one cheek pushing into a dimple. “Don’t worry. It’s a good thing,” I said, adding, “You know, most one year olds walk.” I gazed at him bouncing on my hip with every step. I swear, I thought I saw him rolling his eyes at me.

We reached the edge of the city
. I adjusted the pack on my back, the gun they’d forced me to bring sitting heavily in the bottom. I’d already removed the bullets, but it still made me uneasy. Grass waved around us at waist height, gently beckoning, come closer, closer. I moved quickly through it, grabbing at the first tree trunk I could, and pulling myself into the forest like I was pulling myself over the edge of a cliff.

We didn’t go too far in, hanging close to the edge so we could run back if we needed, but hunters had swept this area yesterday. It was deemed safe for at least
today.

I put Orry on the ground and sat on my pack. He did his usual thing of thudding to the ground and sliding over to me. I shook my head
. “Come over here,” I said. I grabbed his feet and removed his shoes, doing the same myself. He squealed in delight at the feel of the mud squishing between his toes.

We played for a while, sticking our hands in the mud, smearing it on the tree
trunks, and making a fantastic mess.

I stood, leaving him in his pool of dirt and leaves.
“I’ve got to go to the toilet. You stay right there,” I said sternly, waving my finger at him. He looked up at me, blinking, mud smeared on one cheek, and held out a blob he expected me to take from him. “Save it for when I get back.” I moved backwards, bobbing between trees until I could find a bush to squat behind. I knew he’d cry, but I’d be as quick as I could.

As soon as he lost sight of me, h
e screamed.

I finished quickly and jumped up so he could see my face. He
stood in the mud with a stick in one hand and, when he saw me, he took a step forward. And then another. I covered my mouth with my hand, ridiculously proud of him. He was walking. One step, two steps, his hand out in front of him, searching for my legs, which were just a bit too far away. I moved towards him slowly. He stumbled the last step, and I caught his hands to steady him. I kneeled down, pulled him into my lap, and clapped our hands together. “You did it!” I exclaimed, clapping some more.